


GOHST

by Cerfblanc



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Angst, Heavy Angst, M/M, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 12:43:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12705210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerfblanc/pseuds/Cerfblanc
Summary: People say that when a loved one is about to pass and leave, in those last moments, just after their heart stops, they visit us.They scream our names.It’s true.





	1. BANQUO

**Author's Note:**

> Soooooo when you’re stuck for inspiration you think of a personal experience? Right? The concept of this mini work is partly based on an experience I had a decade ago (I think) it felt really surreal, kinda indescribable. Hope you enjoy! :D feedback is much appreciated <3

> _**YEAR 1985** _

 

_*** * *** _

 

“I don’t think I spelt it right.”

“Nah, you didn’t.”

At one point we were talking about books, then Sam started his homework, and then I asked what _Macbeth_ was about, and he tried not to swear. I don’t think he liked it. He had been studying it for a few months now.

“It’s G-H-O-S-T,” My brother says, the tips of his fingers brushing my own as he plucks the pencil from my grasp.

I respond, “Oh. So Macbeth killed Banquo.”

He sighed, “Yup. Then he came back as a ghost—well, some people think he was a figment of Macbeth’s imagination.”

“I think he was a ghost.” I say. Sam smiled at me.

“You believe in ghosts?”

I nod.

He chuckles, “I don’t.”

 


	2. FORESHADOW

_**YEAR 1988** _

 

_*** * *** _

 

The next time my brother comes home he has a graze at his right brow, and a split lip.

“What happened to you?” I ask, even though I knew what had happened. He was fucking about in the empty parking lot on the outskirts, probably with friends, where the old shopping mall was. It was going to be demolished soon.

“Fell off my bike,” He said, touching his bottom lip as he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, “I think I chipped a tooth.”

I say, “Too bad you didn’t knock one out.”

He laughs, “Mom would _skin_ me if that happened.”

“You should be careful, though.”

Mom didn’t really like motorcycles.

She said they weren’t safe—she told us both when we were young, to always choose a car over a bike—and what does Sam do? _Chooses the fucking opposite._

She couldn’t really tell him what to do now, though.

_He’d fight back if he wanted._

He’d scream at her until he didn’t have a voice.

_And when he’s done, he’d leave._

Sam could be overpowering.

_And that was scary._

“Sam,” he doesn’t respond to me when I remind him of the danger, and I feel cold.

“ _Yeah_ ,” he says flatly. He wipes his grazed brow with a facecloth. He winces, “I will.”

“Promise?”

He smiles then. He smiles cheekily, “Can’t exactly promise that one. I can’t tell the future, right?”

_But you can predict it._

 


	3. GHOST

 

_**YEAR 1989** _

 

_*** * *** _

 

I think maybe the friction was too much.

I think maybe we were too much for each other.

I think maybe we on the verge of tearing each other apart.

“Where are you going?”

My eighteen-year-old brother was screaming his way through the house, swearing and shouting at the top of his lungs for a reason he didn’t know why—he had forgotten why we were screaming at each other—I too—but we were still both stuck in high of it all, and we weren’t coming back down from it, and it was scary, oh God, _it was so scary._

_We didn’t know why, and how._

“Away from _you_ ,” he snaps, his voice hoarse. He was pink in the cheeks. I knew he had a headache. He looked tired. He looked exhausted.

“You can’t—“

“ _Fuck off!!!_ ”

I think I was starting to realise it.

_I think it was my fault._

Sam slams the front door shut wearing his denim jacket.

His motorcycle keys were in one hand, and his helmet was in the other.

He never wore leathers. He never wanted to. He never felt the _need_ to.

I stand in the hallway.

I look at the front door.

I hear an engine, it breathes for a few faint seconds, outside, behind the door, and then, it disappears down the road.

I’m sorry.

_Sam, Sam._

Mom would be back by nine o’clock.

Sam was meant to be in charge. We argued. He brought up—well, _I_ brought up—something we agreed to not talk about, something we never figured out— _something I wanted to figure out for the better_ —something so tender to even touch on, it made both of us fucking  _lose it._

Then he ran out of the house. Said he needed to clear his head. Told me to fuck off. Inside I agreed. I just didn’t want to admit it to his face. I was stubborn.

An hour passes, and I’m laid on my back in my bed. The light is still on.

I close my eyes.

I hope for the sound of the front door shutting.

I hope to hear familiar footsteps, a curse, the sound of keys, tears, maybe. A shout. I didn’t care.

_I wanted him back._

A minute passes.

Nothing happens.

I can see the light in front of my eyes, even though they’re closed. I see orange and red. I see pink. I see a mix of everything.

I swallow.

It’s quiet.

Then—

 

 

_**“NATHAN.”** _

 

 

So, so, so close— _close_ — _so close_ —right _there_ —right _there_ in my ears was a voice—it _screamed_ for that _one_ second—it screamed my _name_.

 

And then.

Everything.

Was quiet.

 

Again.

 

My heart is pounding when I sit up in my bed. It _couldn’t_ have happened, because that was _impossible_ , there was no one here but _me_ in the house, and there was no one in the bed _with_ me— _how could that have happened?_

The house phone rings, and I get out of bed to go pick it up.

“ _Hello, is this Nathan Morgan?_ ”

It’s a woman.

“Yeah. It is.”

“ _Your mother hasn’t been able to get through to you, so I’m calling instead. I’m a paramedic. She’s on her way to pick you up right now._ ”

I bite my lip, “What’s happened?”

 

 

A.

Beat.

 

 

“ _I’m very sorry._ ”

 

 

Very sorry for what?

_I should be sorry._

 

 

 

“ _Your older brother Samuel Morgan has been killed outright in a motorcycle accident._ ”

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
